Stretch your brain

I'm twirling plates, herding cats. Or maybe I'm twirling cats and herding plates. Busy though I might be, much of it is familiar, a series of routines and rituals, and even when I write a story saying they found a bunch of new planets, I know I've written if before. I've got a new-planets story template, in which I just change the names of the scientist and the telescope; I can literally write the story in about 13 seconds.

I don't mind plagiarizing myself because if I'm ever desperate for money I will sue my pants off.

But back to the brain. So often I get a tickling feeling at the back of my neck and I think: I had a feeling of deja vu EXACTLY like this before. And it's kind of annoying because I don't remember when and where and for what reason I had the deja vu. It's a free-floating deja vu echo, technically known, I believe, as a deja vu-vu.

Life is a series of almost-memories, flitting briefly into view. Consciousness and dreaming are slowly merging. My dreams are increasingly vivid only in the sense that my waking life is increasingly fuzzy.

I meet people who have aggressively good memories and want to discuss in excruciating detail some passing event that happened in, like, 1987, and to which I was an observer or interested party. That's almost rude -- no one should have to remember what they were doing back in the Iran-Contra Era. I want to say: "I don't recall that event, nor do I remember you, personally, and indeed I would like you to produce some identification before I call the police."

I look at pictures of myself from the 1980s and don't think "gosh, I look young," or "gosh, I look thin," but rather: "WHO DAT???"

The brain needs nurturing, we all know that. There are those who say that even in middle age we can learn things, get smarter, get sharper. We merely need to take our brain out for some exercise, do some mental calisthenics, experiment with new tricks, try to learn a language, write in reverse and read it in a mirror, brush our teeth with the other hand while hopping on one leg and listening to really bad young-people music, and whatnot. Like there's this piece in the New York Times that offers hope for the increasingly brain-fogged:

If kept in good shape, the brain can continue to build pathways that help its owner recognize patterns and, as a consequence, see significance and even solutions much faster than a young person can....

get out of the comfort zone to push and nourish your brain. Do anything from learning a foreign language to taking a different route to work.

Sure, but what about the joys of doing exactly the same thing every day and night? There's a reason people settle into routines: It's more relaxing than driving around town all night, searching for parking and wondering how long you'll have to stay at the party before you'll be permitted to go home and watch the ballgame.

But I do like that bit about the older brain being good at recognizing patterns. For example, the Redskins have had a pattern under Dan Snyder of hiring big-name, big-ticket free agents who turn out to be past their prime. If they were to carry that forward to their decision on who should coach the team, you'd expect that they'd find some guy whose greatest successes were about 10 years ago and who will cost them something like $7 million a year. Right?

I get hit with deja vu so frequently it gets tiring. I mean, it is exhausting when you have to devote so much energy to remembering exactly what this particular experience reminds you of.

I suspect it is a side effect of getting older. I have more things to compare against but a declining memory of the details. I am hopeful that as my mental decline accelerates I will simply lose those distant memories completely. This will make each new experience fresh and new. The joy of my morning oatmeal will be complete.

Laughed aloud at this kit. Yesterday, because I am not a football fanatic and don't recall the history of every player or coach, I read the Wiki article about Shanahan. And said to my husband, "Golly, he hasn't had a winning season in over 10 years -- what are the Redskins doing with their millions?"

I am a creature of habit. Routine guides my life. To a large extent this is an attempt to harness various forces of chaos, both internal and external, lest they pull me screaming into the abyss. But mostly it's because I don't much pay much attention to things.

One could argue that this is because I am always thinking Deep and Important Thoughts. At least that's the excuse I give my wife when I do something like put leftover turkey in the pantry. (Once. I did that Once.)

Where was I? Oh yes. Routine.

Routine for me is a situational mnemonic. If I do things exactly the same way I will be sure to not forget anything. If I do something radical, like, not set out my clothes for the next day, there is a reasonable chance that I will end up at the office wearing fuzzy slippers.

And take a new route to work? Are these people insane? The last time I tried to do that I ended up lost in some McMansion development just waiting for the helicopters to arrive.

I too am a creature of habit and if I do not pay attention have been known to take my regular route, even when the destination is not the regular place. Deja vu, it the realization "Oh crap I was supposed to go there today", in the language of the GPS lady, "recalculating".

The thing about life and routine and memory is that when you think about the events in our life we DO remember, it's mind-boggling to think about the stuff we don't remember.

Does that make sense? I mean just for a simple example, look back to your college days. There are probably a total of maybe 30 hours' worth of those years (cumulative) that you can remember. What about the other 35,000 hours? What were you doing?

Now that I've been retired three years (!!!), I have developed a new routine that is familiar and satisfying. The transition was from work routine to retired routine a bit disorienting. I'm cool with it now.

The one routine that bothers me occurs when I'm keyboarding. Do other people have the problem of thinking one word and typing another? Happens to me All.The.Time.

What's worse, TBG, is when you *think* you remember something really well and you actually don't. For example, the last time I was in my home town I was convinced that they had moved around a couple of streets just to mess with my mind.

Routines are comfortable and comforting, but after a while I find them rather too predictable and rather depressing. Sort of like how growing up I knew every Thursday night mom would serve chicken a la king. I like to vary my routes and reorder my daily tasks sometimes, just to keep it interesting. Right now I'm trying to talk "S" into taking a trip to Costa Rica. It's fairly untamed where #2 lives and I think he'd like to wait til it's less wild. I'd rather just do something slightly nuts!

Since humans see patterns where often none exist my lifelong quest is to try to stop seeing those non-existent patterns. This was difficult in my youth and it's difficult now. I'm starting to see a pattern.

Here's some on-kit disclosure: prior to 2006 when I first started hanging out here I don't think I ever wrote a non-assigned poem and certainly not any song parodies. Within a month or two of my de-lurking I had been at an advocacy seminar in which a highly regarded local lawyer recommended poetry as a way to increase your mental agility.

Not only are the 'Skins looking habitual, so are da Bears. Yeah, there will be a new crop of assistants next season, but it's really just a proverbial rearrangement of the Titanic deck chairs.

On a more personal level, there are few things in life that take one out of one's routine than an accident or sudden illness. In the days since MrJS' fall we have both had to unlearn, or at least temporarily shelve, old routines and create new ones on the fly. And, of course, the new ones are being revised on a near-hourly basis and probably will be for some time.

I'm actually learning to appreciate the nature of chaos. I'm amazed at its potential for creativity, expansion and, dare I say, fun.

I have no idea how long it will last, but I'm actually enjoying the experience of not having any routines. I have only the vaguest of maps to follow and the desire to make it all work out somehow.

I have more than a tickling feeling at the back of my brain--more like a rocket on lift-off coursing through the veins under the skin of my rear scalp--and know the cause, always: a too big of a dab of wasabi.

Did anyone catch Olivia Judson's column at the NYT about memory? Not only is there the brain's memory, but the immune system has memory, too--and perhaps forgetfulness. Most interesting to me was the question of whether plants have memory. She poses the notion (one of several), with few details, that plants might be primed to enable them to forget a drought--a most useful idea in south Texas.

The forecast for Saturday morning here is 20 degrees, the cold front expected to arrive on 30 mph winds, we're told. Not the coldest ever recorded, but perhaps the lowest overnight temp in about a decade. After the hottest summer on record, I'm not mentally prepared for any more record-setting anything.

My husband's Spanish lessons from his calendar are proceeding. I've been helping him with pronunciation each day. I'd be surprised if he remembers one-tenth of the phrases on the 2010 pages by year's end. Yesterday's was a good one, though:

Necesito dormir la siesta: I need a nap.

I need a nap to give my brain a rest. This morning I finished Horner's latest book, and am pondering his last chapter: his hope of using signaling mechanisms extant, yet evolved in the chicken (avian dinosaur) genome to reverse engineer a chickenosaur with teeth, short forelimbs instead of wings, and a tail (and turning off the mechanism for the current structure of the chicken's pope's or parson's nose).

Little did I realize that Canadian Hans Larsson's work on the genes for spines/tails could have implications for serious birth defects of the human spine, including spina bifida. I immediately think of the Chris and Dana Reeve Foundation, and Nicholas Kristof's very recent column and his mention of folic acid to prevent sponal defects.

I suppose it's the point of uniforms to make everyone uniform, but it does make it hard for proud parents and their friends. The best shots I saw were from the pre-game show on the field.

It's the first day of classes, so time for me to figure out a new routine. When do I teach, again? I am happy to report that I successfully created syllabi in time for the first class day. Yep, yesterday.

Certainly reading other people's poetry is an intellectual workout as well as an aesthetic pleasure. I will refrain from exercising my brain by writing and posting any pomes :) engelmann and 'mudge have that speciality very well covered.

I've always been fascinated by memory. I mean, the storage capacity needed is incredible. And I am especially intrigued by our ability to remember songs.

How many times have you heard a song from decades ago and remembered it, despite not having heard it since? Perhaps the brain just latches onto the patterns inherent in music. Or maybe we recall these songs simply because most people have such a strong association with music. I dunno. But I do know that my brain, when prompted, was able to recall the Banana Splits Theme Song in its entirety after nearly 40 years of quiescence.

(Weird. I just re-loaded the page and it brought up the log-in page for the first time in ages.)

I would be willing to take that coaching position with the Washington Ethnic Slurs. I believe that my best days of football coaching (in fact, any days of football coaching) lie before me. I am not a has-been. I am convinced that my near-total lack of experience -- or, as I like to call it, my track record of independent preparation -- will give me a fresh perspective that will enable the Ethnic Slurs to foil the expectations of opponents and generate some real excitement and originality in game play. Because I consider the job itself to be at least half the reward, I would be willing to take the position for only half what Mr. Shanahan is charging -- $3.5 million would do very nicely. Per year. Two-year contract minimum, as I believe that stable expectations are an important component in leading any organization that depends on cooperation and personal excellence.

My routine seems to be to start becoming fuzzy around 3:00. That's why the drive home is always on the same route - less chance of wandering off into the suburban landscape and wind up in some cul-de-sac.

As for memory, I'm not half bad, even though I can never remember how old I am. But that's not really memory...it's not like the number stays the same. I'm just too lazy to do the mental math, what with carrying the one....

I once learned there was a warrant out for my arrest for something I definitely would have remembered doing, but it seems youngest sis had all the fun with a borrowed ID.

laloomis, up here, they serve that chicken-o-saur you describe with bleu cheese dressing.

Speaking of long-buried memories, I recall seeing a TV show YEARS ago about the brain and memory storage. It included a segment during brain surgery where the docs inserted an electronic probe into the memory cortex. When the probe was activated the patient, who was awake, immediately described a memory in exact detail. Another spot in the brain, another exact memory. Apparently all of our life experince is still buried in there. The big trick is to find a way to access it (or not, if you don't really want to remember some of those episodes).

One banana, two banana, three banana, four!
One banana, two banana, three banana, four.
Four bananas make a bunch and so do many more.
Over hill and highway the banana buggies go
Comin' on to bring you The Banana Splits Show.

Makin up a mess of fun
Makin up a mess of fun
Lot's of fun for everyone.

Memory is indeed a fascinating critter. As TBG says, while I remember some things vividly, there are huge chunks of years which I recall vaguely or not at all. What I remember vividly may be completely trivial and uninteresting, even to me, and - worse - may (as RD says) not even have happened. Or not as I remember it.

I am a creature of routine but I like to try changing that routine slightly. Having the Boy around helps, given the inherent prediliction of the young for random action. Also, I learned to my peril that if I do something with or for the Boy once, and he likes it, it is instantly a Tradition not to be Disturbed. Changing routines helps defray that tendency.

MsJS, there is a lot to be said for the ability to embrace chaos. I wouldn't want to do it every day, but it can be a valuable ally. I'm glad you're finding ways to transform some challenges into opportunities to think or feel differently. In the short run, that is; in the long run you want that hip to heal and the chance to resume the routines which are still attractive after their absence. Or something.

Having attended numerous Bronco games (husband has season tickets) I can say that Shanahan is a good coach especially when he has a great quarterback...as in the John Elway days which ended, um, ten years ago.

Off topic: I was driving on the San Diego freeway last night (805S for those in the know) and I noticed a huge white billboard
with only these three words in big black letters: Cover Your Cough. Right on!

Slyness, I too occasionally begin typing the word I'm thinking to then see a totally different word on the page. Start twilight zone music...do..do...do-do.

RD - you are most def not alone. i remember in gov class when we had to write the preamble to the constitution i heard a lot of humming... to this day i know the preamble to the constitution word for word... but only b/c of school house rock...

7 million/year for a coach? Geesh that seems like a lot.I never liked Mike Shanahan,he looked too much like a nasty boss I had years ago. But I have become a skins fan lately,mostly because of the the friends I made in west by god.So maybe i will have to give him a break.

Yesterday almost felt balmy here,because there wasn't as much wind.I have a friend coming over for dinner,but i had to chip ice away from the grill where the sump pump made the back yard a skating rink.

As for my memory,I did a bit too much recreational illegal activities in the 70's to remember much about the 80's.I got better in the 90's,but then i started getting older.Now i can't seem to remember much.

example:I had the day off and wanted to hike in the park and take some pictures of any iced over waterfalls and streams.Well I found some nice ones at the park,but my camera was left here at the house....D'oh!!!

And now we’ll calculate the length of triangle’s hypoteneuse
First take the squares of sides A and B and add them, silly goose
the square root of that sum, you see, is your hypoteneuse
And we ain’t gonna wonder no more

Glory, glory, it’s quite a theorem
Triangles, once would not go near them
Thanks Pythagoras, we need not fear ‘em
And we ain’t gonna wonder no more

RD - there has been research done on the differences in the way that the brain processes language vs. music, and this includes song lyrics. Lyrics are apparently stored in memory differently than speech. I remember reading an article years ago -- probably either Discover or Psychology Today -- about people who suffered from total aphasia due to brain damage, yet could sing along with songs that they had learned years before.

Also, I have noted from my own experience that when I was under extreme stress (especially when my mother was ill), I was subject to a great deal of aphasia. Couldn't find words and couldn't complete sentences clearly. I ended up just trying to relax as much as possible, getting enough sleep and just forging ahead. I must say that it was pretty scary, especially since my mother's illness was Alzheimers.

But I think the brain is a magical organ and I have the utmost respect for it. It definitely knows what it's doing, and it does it well, unless we take measures to interfere w/ it. As we all do, from time to time.

yello - thanks for that link. Wow, talk about activating long-dormant braincells. Seriously, is there anyone in America who watched cartoons in the 1970s who does not know that tune? The youtube comments were amusing as well.

Yes, thanks, yellojkt. I played it for the Boy while Ivansdad and I sang along. He's heard it before, but it doesn't resonate with him in the same way. I don't know how they're teaching the Preamble now, but we have it memorized and he doesn't. Hey! Arts education!

The wind chill is already dropping. Our Arctic Cold Air should be here in scant hours. Here's how unprepared we are for real cold, like you Lower Canuckistanis and Haute Mainers have: our school district Closed The Schools today and tomorrow. So did the other major city. Yep, the two largest school districts Closed It Down. They were followed by scores of smaller districts (we have hundreds, I don't want to talk about it). Now, as they say, this is a prudent student safety measure. Most kids statewide either walk or ride the bus. With probable windchills below zero both days, and lots of kids who either ride the bus and stand outside at bus stops, or who walk as much as a mile (or more) to school, it would be dangerous to have them out. This is particularly true since many of them have to be there before or right at sunrise. Nonetheless, it feels very odd to admit that we done Closed the Schools for Cold Weather.

Yoki, I just looked up that term. Wow. The French really *do* have a word for everything. I've experienced that sensation every once and a while with words. I recall, years ago, looking at the word "marshmallow" and finding it momentarily unfamiliar.

Yoki knows this already, but listen up you reminiscing folk. Blossom Dearie, jazz vocalist and pianist recently dead, sang in those SchoolHouse Rock spots. Her "Figure Eight" caught me by surprise: made me weep a bit and never feel the same about ice skating.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jeq5a8bBh8c

somewhere in the deep recesses of my memory, I recall reading that deja vu can be caused by very episode specific combinations of olfactory and visual cues. the combination of cues causes your brain to rerun a particular memory, fooling you into thinking been there, done that, re-living it.

CqP, this is a similar video about the deep field image, which gives a metric for the scale which is left out of the other one: the area covered by the 1996 image is the size of a grain of sand held out at arms length. There is also a terrific 3D zoom through the galaxies at the end of the video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oAVjF_7ensg&feature=fvw

TBG, one of my favorite abbreviations of all time is a sign I used to see in Rock Creek Park in Maryland: MD NAT CAP PARK PLAN COM (the Maryland/National Capital Park and Planning Commission)

Thanks, Rash -- I see several of them floating around. My first one came from somebody at Goddard Sp.Fl.Cen.

We should recall the amazing pioneering visualization on inner and outer space: Powers of Ten.

Ray and Charles Eames are the originators of this fine trip. Commissioned by IBM through the amazing research center in Menlo Park, CA. I interviewed for a job there in 1982, but you know, that was the last uber recession we had. 9 astonishing minutes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2cmlhfdxuY

Then, traverse over to the Powers of Ten website, run by the Eames Office and the Eames' grandson. His name is Eames Demetrios (TBG -- Greek goodness! I still needs some luscious food.)

MsJs, on the NOAA website blue comes before green. Here we understand blue to be snow, the darker the blue, the heavier the snow. I'm with you on the youtube links, I was too old for schoolhouse rock. Rocky and Bullwinkle would make me sit up and take notice.

Meant to mention that my trip to the post office today involved walking past the LaRouche glassbowls. They had a poster with the president's face and the words "Obama cracker" - classy. I asked the postal worker inside if they had a permit to be there. He replied that he guessed they did but said also that he hoped that they would harass me in some way so I could call the police and report them. Alas, no such luck.

Heard that Fort Sam Houston went into temporary lockdown today on our local ABC affiliate station before dinner. The Express-News has the story at its website; I can't find any mention of this story on the TV station's website this evening. An unnamed/unknown individual tried to see paralyzed Fort Hood shooter Hasan today in his hospital room at BAMC, first claiming to be his lawyer, then his doctor.

James Cameron's next movie venture about the atomic bomb? From a paragraph from an important obit in today's NYT. The words "film project" don't provide much description--documentary, feature film?:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/07/world/asia/07yamaguchi.html?hpw

At a lecture he gave in Nagasaki last June, Mr. Yamaguchi said he had written to President Obama about banning nuclear arms. And he was recently visited by the American film director James Cameron to discuss a film project on atomic bombs, Ms. Yamasaki said.

"In wayfarer’s worlds out west was once a man,
A man I come not to bury, but to praise.
His name was Geoffrey Lebowski called, yet
Not called, excepting by his kin.
That which we call a knave by any other name
Might bowl just as sweet. Lebowski, then,
Did call himself ‘the Knave’..."

This is the beginning chorus of "Two Gentlemen of Lebowski" by Adam (ta da!) Bertocci, a work of absolute art...

I'm enjoying the video feast, sciencey and Schoolhouse Rock-ey. I plan to show the Boy some of them tomorrow. While he's not at school. While we're all cowering from the cold.

It is settling in now. The wind is gusting, wind chill is cold, and the light rain is turning to snow. It got warm today and a lot of the piled-up snowbanks melted. At least it will be easy for the roads to freeze into black ice tonight. I'm thinking I'll start work late tomorrow.

WALTER
In sooth, then, faithful friend, this was a rug of value? Thou wouldst call it not a rug among ordinary rugs, but a rug of purpose? A star in a firmament, in step with the fashion alike to the Whitsun morris-dance? A worthy rug, a rug of consequence, sir?

THE KNAVE
It was of consequence, I should think; verily, it tied the room together, gather’d its qualities as the sweet lovers’ spring grass doth the morning dew or the rough scythe the first of autumn harvests. It sat between the four sides of the room, making substance of a square, respecting each wall in equal harmony, in geometer’s cap; a great reckoning in a little room. Verily, it transform’d the room from the space between four walls presented, to the harbour of a man’s monarchy.

I don't know if it's my hand getting ahead of my brain or other ways, but lately when I do the xword puzzle, I find myself writing a letter too soon...for instance today an answer was balloon. the n and the second l were already in place. I ended up wit ballonn.

just because it hasn't been done for the past couple of weeks, some background music

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70y5gi0Thp4&feature=related

the semester is turning, leaving but 87 days until summer holiday. my how time flies. the avg temp here has been around 25 for the past week, and will drop even further by the weekend, with near single digit lows by saturday morning. if only our fireplaces were functional. they're designed to burn coal, the hottest fire i've ever seen burn in a hearth.

I remember how the smoke from wood burning stoves got trapped near the ground in an inversion layer during the depths of the Potsdam winter. It hasn't been this cold for this long in these parts since '77, although I didn't move here until '84. *That* was a cold winter. If the fireplaces were functional, there's coal all over the grounds about the shack.

For the record I believe bc and TBG share the weekly tiara record at four each. LiT with three. Mudge, Scotty and I trailing with two. Also, it seems we all had a midseason slump.

I find it completely funny that my two weeks proudly wearing the Tiara must surely be flukes: week 2 and 4. My statistical methodology requires at least 4-6 games and of course this is when I started picking the worst.

bc is the only nose picker to win the Tiara with less than 10 right (week six). (The start of the slump

Potsdam NY? I remember '77. Lower Bucks County PA. I don't recall it being particularly cold, but it was the only blizzard, for real, I ever saw. Could barely make out the shape of houses 50 feet away across the street. four to five feet of snow in about 24 hours. some snow drifts down in the woods were up to 8-10 feet. My second winter in PA. Welcome to Bucks Co kiddo. boy oh boy was that fun for for a 15 YO old boy.

A few years ago, going out and get 5 or 6 errands done was not a problem. Now, with a written list of 2 or 3 items, I could only get 1 thing done. Two, if they are easy ones.

Certain words which are spelt correctly seem wrong to me, now.

The only positive thing about this mental declination is that I get a bit more exercise. I go upstairs to get something. When I got there, I forgot what I needed to get, so I go back downstairs. Just as I was about to sit down, I remembered what I forgot. I head back upstairs again. When I got up there, I got distracted and come back down without getting what I had gone up there to get originally. And then I have to go back upstairs again.

God loves us so much more than we can imagine through Him that died for all, Jesus Christ.

Good morning, friends. It was just a tad warmer here yesterday as the day progressed, but not warm enough to leave the coat at home.

I'm feeling well enough to continue my routine, so it was a long day.

Ivansmom, got a chance to read the book to the kids at the Center. They love the pictures as I do, well some of them do. A little girl in the first grade loved the Little Red Riding Hood book. I told her I would bring it back and we're going to read it together. The g-girl snagged the one with all the pictures. She wanted to take all three!

We've had a fire here in the complex down the street from me. I don't have many of the details, but I'm trying find out where the folks are that live in those apartments. I'm rethinking rental insurance, but where, oh, where do I get the finance is always the question for me and many others.

I should have some answers today from the doctor's office, hopefully with a fix in there somewhere. Keep me in your prayers.

Scotty, Yoki, Mudge, Martooni, Slyness, Lindaloo, and everyone, have very good day, and keep warm. Check on your elderly neighbors, and open your heart to the homeless. Love to all.

It's a sure hint I need to work on mine when I've taxied halfway to the Dawn Patrol runway and realize I left my wallet on the coffee table. Made it back in time for my normally scheduled takeoff, thankfully.

I'm up for a playoffs tiara challenge, sure. I've got the big Mo (not you, mo, but the overused sports term) on my side, so what could possibly go wrong?

"Muscle memory" is a weird effect. You know, the way you train yourself to do certain actions so thoroughly that they become innate. Tying a necktie is a classic example. And these things are surprisingly long lived. Just for fun, take a pen and write a few years from the past century, like "1979" or "1992." If you are like me, your hand races through them, especially the "19" bit, without hesitation. Do this too many times, though, and you will be mucking up checks for days.

As a devoted READER of all the Guccione empire magazines in the late seventies and early 80s, my friends and I noticed all the stylistic similarities between Omni and the flagship publication.

The WaPo article has some keen insights into Omni's demise. I have always pegged it as being the descent into parapsychology and UFOlogy that mirrored the other magazine's fascination with conspiracy theories.

Well, at least our engineering degrees. I bought the charter issue of Wired on the newsstand long after I had stopped spending money on Bob's slicks. Omni completely missed the rise of cyber culture. By not keeping up with the times, the magazine of the future doomed itself to obsolescence.

RD, the other night at my first tennis experience in about 20 years, I had the same bad habits that I had back then, muscle memory indeed. Now if only my muscles would remember not to ache after the exertion, especially my right wrist.

Seems like we will be escaping the worst of the cold weather that a lot of the country is having. Just normally cold here, not that it feels any better except by comparison.

Reasonably mild here this morning but supposed to get cold for the weekend. For those of you in more southern climes I offer this to warm you. The Olympic flame is now in Winnipeg, keep in mind you are balmy compared to there. Camera is working today but might be sporadic, also the weather link, a warm -17f there this morning -38 with the windchill - hope that flame gives off some heat.

There is a huge sign entering Timmins: "Hometown of Shania Twain". The new barn is named the Shania Twain arena if I remember correctly. They are very proud of their girl.
But gawd, that's a boring place. The only cultural activity is drinking.

Thanks, dmd. She sure was bundled up well. I saw Shania in concert at the MCI Center several years back. She sang the first half of the show in a Redskins jersey and the second half in a baggy Capitals jersey. A (female) coworker agreed that I was ripped off and due a refund.

shriek, I think that you'll find that brining Shanahan has a number of interesting effects (which I do tend to recommend). By immersing Shanahan in a large bucket or vat of brine for anywhere from four hours to overnight will resuklt in a Shanahan that is significantly moister than he would otherwise be. This is because brining him hydrates of his muscle tissue by the process of osmosis. This allows hiscells to hold on to the water while while he is coaching via the process of denaturation. The brine surrounding the play-calling cells has a higher concentration of salt than the fluid in his muttering and cursing cells, his pacing-up-and-down cells, his product endorsement cells, and other cells less central to his role as Redskin-in-chief.

In Shanahan's case, I recommend approximately one cup of kosher salt to every gallon of brine, along with a quarter cup of sugar, a stick of cinnamom, three bay leaves (uncrushed), and an assortment of fresh herbs, say, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme (either the older versions or the newer Dylan and Simon versions, it doesn't matter; allare good).

Brining Shanahan also means that the water carried into the cells dilutes the other solutes already there. The increased salinity denatures the proteins, which coagulate, forming a matrix that traps water molecules and holds them during halftime as well as during those long periods when the refs go to the booth to confer upon challeneges and controversial plays during the last two minutes. As you know, these delays can take several weeks to resolve. Thus, brining prevents the offensive and defensive game plan from dehydrating.

Kosher head coaches are salted during the process of koshering, interviewing, Rooney Rule waiting periods, etc., and so are not brined.

(Note: after thorough brining, the head coach must be thoroughly washed and rinsed before being present to the media for roasting.)

Bundled up is the only way to dress with a -30 windchill Yello. In my search also noted that Shania is currently filling in on the CBC show "The Current" and will be travelling to Jordan to inview the Queen of Jordan on her charitable foundation.

Indeed. A shockingly high seven or eight percent of them may not be -- as they say -- "intact" unpon entering the bridal bower. Let us hope their future husbands might not notice, the poor lambs. If they do, I suppose there is always the (Mr. Will, close your ears) "bicycle-riding accident" story.

I'm afraid all you people are quite wrong about the Shanahan-and-brining issue. You see, the headline specifically was about brining *in* Shanahan, a much more dubious culinary procedure, as it requires that one has access to a Shanahan of one's own to complete the procedure. Frankly, in these financially parlous times, I think it shows poor judgment that the WaPo should feature so-called "cooking hints" that depend upon specialized equipment or materials available only to those of significant means. Especially since one's investment in one's Shanahan is likely to be ephemeral: experience suggests that a Shanahan, or similar alternative Head Coach, will not remain viable for more than a year, requiring a similar substantial investment just a year later.

Mudge,
Tom Wolfe wrote an entire novel based on just that shocking discovery. 'I Am Charlotte Simmons' also deals with the seamy underside of collegiate sports. Perhaps Georgie got a copy for Christmas and needed some column fodder.

Nostalgia continued. Tammy Grimes made great musical theater hay out of her voice of gravel, sinus, and pre-adolescent settings. I love her narrations best.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUr78H-CAKo

This 8 minute clip is of the wondrous and short-lived Long Ago and Far Away PBS series of folk tales from all over. Narrated by Darth Vader erh, oopsies, James Earl Jones, the opening scene featured a deep black velvet set studded with stars.

Other episodes? Tammy Grimes (The Happy Circus),
Kim Loughran (Bill and Bunny),
David Suchet (The Fool of the World and the Flying Ship), and Mia Farrow (Beauty and the Beast, Pegasus).

Hey, guys. Check in if you want. We have a full-blown Crazy Alert going on in the next kits, so I'm just gonna hang around here for a while. slyness, you here yet? Wanna open up a nice prosecco and have some cheese and crackers before lunch?

That sounds great mudge. In real life a coworker showed up with an enormous container of assorted dried fruits. For which I have a tremendous weakness. So, you know, I'll need some cheese and crackers to balance things out.

whew the new kit went from 3 post to 77 in an hour.I knew this was the only safe place to be.Those people are like crazy piranha's.I want to be where i know all the crazies and they are loved.

I still have some grilled chicken from last night's ill-fated attempt at a date.I guess when the date doesn't show up,call or answer her phone,she is not really interested. No big deal anyway and i got chicken to contribute to today's lunch and to eat at work the rest of the week.

Wow, Trivial Pursuit. I remember when that came out way, way back in 1982. And then there were all the knock-offs. I used to be pretty good at that game, except I kept answering in the form of a question.

Mudge -- got here. And, I think you saw my response about the loss of Yiddish on campus. Sigh -- we are not an educational-institution much these days. Higher Ed is a career training wonderland now. WHICH I understand. But the chief products of a U should be:

generate knowledge and technology, mostly for "free"
SHARE THE KNOWLEDGE/TECH in the gift economy
guide young-ems through the knowledge and tech fields

Okay I can add some linguini with clam sauce to the menu for those who don't want Mexican. Feeling a bit out of sorts as #2 is in Costa Rica and I miss her. Altho' I will say that Facebook is proving to be a great way to chat back and forth. I 'shared' breakfast with them this morning. Once they get to their house, they won't have Internet access unless they go down the mountain to the Internet cafe.

CqP: I agree with you in principle regarding role of higher education.

At the same time I look at BroJS and his three college-age daughters. In this economy, without at least a few 'career' type classes on their transcripts, their chances of landing a post-college job drop substantially.

I make no claim at knowing where the balance point is. Just pointing out a situation from my 3D life.

CQP, as a linguaphile myself, I really think educational institutions (especially those of "higher" learning (trying to suppress a *snort*, knowing all about the University of Michigan annual "hash bash" on the Diag) are making a mistake in cutting down/out foreign languages. I will admit that languages come very easy to me, but the world actually does speak other languages and to be competitive (if that is what this country really wants to be) and independent from those who control our economy (such as it is) (like China), it really is incumbent upon us to learn other languages.

Of course, there are people in this country who never leave their home towns, and therefore never need to know anything other than what they learned in kindergarten. Like, perhaps, those bombarding the kit we just left.

But I digress.

My mother spoke a little Yiddish, and when I was working in West Germany (as it was then) during the summer of 1980, having heard her speak it was very, very helpful and instrumental in my being able to understand written and spoken German. Well, that and the similarity in many ways to Swedish (but not in spelling or grammar).

College is not vocational school. That's what I tell my kids and anyone else who will listen. Of course, look at my son... in a vocational program (Graphic Arts & Printing) and he's happy as a clam. A printing and designing clam.

Here's my life these days: the other day at lunch (at work) I made a reference to Willy Loman and I was met with blank stares all around the table. Even after explaining who he was (is?), there was no hint of recognition.

This is FUN! Anybody interested in a game of Scrabble? (I always lose!)

The sun is shining but inclement weather is in the forecast. (Hey bia!) So when I was coming home from the grocery store I got behind a truck spreading brine and got it all over my clean car. Yes, I wiped it off before it dried.

Granddaughter #1 is taking Spanish and she's in fifth grade, so maybe there's some hope for learning languages. I wish they started them sooner tho' as I think it sticks better to younger brains. I took French for years but lack of use has left me with very little of it. #2 has been commenting in Spanish on her Facebook page and it's 'Greek' to me.

The great thing I've learned over the decades, MsJS, is that when I try to speak another language -- especially what might be called a "minor" language -- not only do I get a lot (and I mean *a lot*) of respect (especially as an American), but I also get invited to parties. It's enormous fun, and I've met a lot of new and very interesting people.

I'm sort of learning some African languages now, and believe you me -- I get great kudos for that. And it's fun for me.

Time for lunch (the actual one, although I will be nibbling from the Bunker this afternoon).

One good thing about a university in a little town far far away from anywhere else -- it can't depend on no-benefits part-timers for the teaching, because there just isn't a pool of people around. If the only way to get instructors is to get them to move from somewhere else, you've at least got to offer them full time work.

A funny thing about bi-/multilingualism in the U.S. -- if you're a native speaker of English, and you've learned another language or two, you get all kinds of admiration -- wow, that's so hard, you must be really smart.

If you're natively bilingual, or especially if you learned English as a second language, and you dare to speak a language other than English in public -- stop that right away, you scary foreigner! You'll never be successful in this society if you don't abandon that strange language and speak only English instead!

What happened to, wow, you're so smart, you know more than one language? Sigh.

Students need both vocational training and a more-or-less classical education. I mean this for both the automechanic and the economic policy wonk. However, I am weird and increasingly curious and curiouser in my views.

I teach a tools class, MsJS: advanced composition for juniors and seniors -- required professional writing class that looks like technical writing largely. However, our program accommodates widely to help student anticipate the audiences in professional life.

But, most of us know that this is a class in thinking. So, we begin with rhetoric and Aristotle.

I also tutor in hs -- not so much these days -- but I always gave my students a foundation that would be recognized by medieval professors from Bologna to the Sorbonne to Oxford and Tubingen.
But, then again, I teach at a land grant institution. This tradition, from Justin Morril from Vermont and dear old Abe, largely got right the balance between classical and practical. However, the mall-ification is OVER and COMPLETE in higher ed. We have gyms, which I do use, and the foot court that brings money into Marriot and corporate fasties like Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, and Subway....books are provided largely by Barnes and Noble.....and the college marketing offices (admission) SELL THE SCHOOL BASED ON THESE expected and homogenized experiences.....blech..I shall stop. Not a meal conversation really because my stomach churns at this.

Still, victory is in the classroom. And, the victory moment might be between a student and AN ADJUNCT.....who works for peanuts and praise and the thought of that victory moment...

One in-person job application today and one by email and one by online application. I felt fired up for a while.

We are due a "light dusting" of snow here, or so they say. For some reason my refurbished kerosene heater is on the fritz. I have some firewood left. The furnace of course will pick up the slack.

Too bad Orszag's baby won't have an in-house father, except if the mother marries soon, which I hope occurs on general principles of what's often good for kids.

As for budget I wish they would begin converting all applicable Federal buildings to solar water heating and photovoltaics. I read the prelim analysis is done and which buildings are best suited is already known. So, what's the wait?

ftb: I did a lot of business in Europe in the latter days of my career and totally agree that even feeble attempts at the local language, if done with respect, goes a very, very long way.

CqP: Can I take your tools class?

bia: The caregivers we have for MrJS are all naturalized U.S. citizens and speak English far better than he or I speak their native languages. Given my miserable track record with any language save English, they have my admiration and gratitude.

There's a whole case of liebfraumilch, slyness, though on a day like this, maybe we ought to brew up and nice big bowl of mulled wine, yes? People have already brought some fruit, too, so we could have a kind of mulled sangria.

ros, that article gets it right from everything my daughter says. Especially anything environmental- they do a very good job there. And it's beautiful. And there are sloths (as well as tarantulas, poisonous snakes, weird looking insects, howler monkeys, etc. - but as SIL says, everything is big enough to spot pretty quick). Trying to talk "S" into visiting.

Based on our experience there last year, I would agree with most of Kristof's column. Costa Ricans, or Ticos as they call themselves, enjoy political stability, good health care, and a high literacy rate (over 90%). Fully a quarter of the country is set aside in parks and preserves, and tourism is 40% of the national economy. They really seem to like Americans and many Ticos are fluent in English. American dollars are accepted everywhere, and many retailers will quote you prices in USD if you wish (many stores show both currencies on the check out display). Dependence upon American tourism has resulted in serious economic impacts in Costa Rica during the current US financial troubles, and American investment is driving real estate prices ever higher, especially on the lovely Pacific coast.

San Jose is not particularly notable and the reason to visit CR lies in the countryside, in the beautiful mountains and gorgeous beaches on both coasts, in the amazing rain forests filled with exotic butterflies, birds, and animals. Tico cuisine is a little bland compared with the rest of Latin America, but they do have a couple of good domestic beers, Imperiale being my fave. Go if you get the chance.

kguy, #2's house is on the Pacific side. They bought the land about 5-6 years ago and the value has appreciated. She doesn't like San Jose much, a lot of scam artists taking advantage of tourists who don't speak the language etc., but she loves where they are the the Ticos are wonderful, helpful and friendly. Of course, she speaks Spanish pretty well which is always a good thing. I don't understand people who live in a country and don't speak the language or attempt to learn it - what better way than by immersion. Hear they've got some volcano action there today but it's about 45 miles east of San Jose, so no impact on #2, thank heavens.

Well! But, we will find time to be in bed with various assorted women while the nations economics flounders. After all the OMB "Office of Management and Budget" isn't important enough to have a rational focused director??????????

How on earth did this guy find time to run the nations life blood -- the budget of the USA?

The Fungi has a spectacular series of picture of Costa Rica he's taken last year on his venom-producing bug-collecting trip. It's a darn good-looking place. The black sand beaches are something else (hot for the tootsies apparently).

Funny kit but it makes me shake my head in wonder that so many people feel a need to comment as if there are greater meanings to be divined from Orszag's behavior.

So, I'll keep my musings trivial. Here's what I can't figure out. Does the man not speak to these women? With effort I could overlook the nerd cool look that does 0 for me, but his voice reminds me of every over-the-top sitcom nerd ever to grace the TV screen.

It is just about time to start dinner. I've got lamb shanks to be braised in wine, herbs and garlic until they are falling-off-the-bone tender, Greek rice pilaf and some grilled tomatoes, peppers, onions and zuchini. Various olives on the side, warmed in the oven.

You people are wimps. Those aren't even full-sized trolls over there. Parsing the drive-bys gives a humorous insight into the knee-jerk mind of a wing nut. How they can get so worked up over a non-scandal so banal is amusing. They are kinda like bulldogs, an ugly mindless drooling excuses for a creature that doesn't deserve to live, but cute in a disgusting sort of way.

Back from taking down the Christmas tree,when i was in west by god,i would always leave it up till groundhogs day in honor of my father.But this tree was cut 3 weeks before christmas and was still dying despite all the watering.I think my mom will be shocked to see it down and everything put away(shocked in a good way).
That's right,i'm the "good son",well actually everybody is good.

I'm out to get a gas tank filled and a small walk,when i get back we can talk about the national championship.

And especially not BullDawgs. I still haven't decided on pulling for the Longhorns or the Tide. I'm willing to take bribes. Yesterday, the Austin airport was a sea of rusty orange. Many of whom had the frightened look of people who had never been on a plane before. We had to teach one lady how to read the departures board to figure out what gate her plane was at.

Apparently, Richard Heene (Balloon Boy's dad) is telling television interviewers that his guilty plea was a hoax, but the balloon incident wasn't.
[ http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/01/06/AR2010010604093.html?hpid=sec-nation ]

"We had searched the house, high and low," Heene said, choking back tears during a taped interview for "Larry King Live" that will air on CNN. "I knew he was in the craft. ... In my mind there was no other place."

That sort of thing really pisses judges off, and since he's got 90 days of jail and four years of probation yet to come, I'm not sure if he wants to get in the habit of going on record as stating that he lied when he plead guilty in court.

Hah - knew I'd find you all down here! Just warming up after driving a neighbor all over the snowy town. She put her car in a ditch early this morning, crawled out and called a cab and went to her doctor's appointment. Then took a cab back to the ditch to find it towed away. I first had to take her to the license office to get a duplicate title, since she couldn't find hers, then to the tow lot, where she discovered that the car was totaled. How she didn't notice that first, at the ditch, I don't know. I think she may be a tad demented, although she's only 65. Then we jump-started her other car, and she's off to do some shopping. Good luck to her, I say. My 16 y.o. is out doing her first driving in snow - scary to think the crazy neighbor is out there on the streets with her.

For the past 20 years I have always had an elderly near neighbor who needed much help and attention. I think we're all going to see more of this as time goes on - more and more people have no kids and few/no friends - so guess who gets to step in and help out? I enjoyed doing it today - last year when she broke her leg in my back yard on x-mas eve, in a sleet storm, not so much.

Sorry, MsJS. I remember now that you said you NEVER wanted to hear that song again. My bad. But really, you can't appreciate Neil until you have heard him from the road through the fabric dome of the USF SunDome. The man can rock an arena.

Thanks MsJS! When I was an elderly teenager I conceived a passion for Theodorakis's music; flew to London to hear his First Symphony at Albert Hall, had ever record I could locate. Nice to hear this again.

Howdy! How nice to be back where sanity rules (at least by comparison). Really I'm just dropping in; I have to go out to a "dinner" tonight (menu - hot dogs & beer, at least I hope they have beer). I thought I'd catch up next door but was a little startled by the ratio of passion to topic. Thanks for the tasty snacks. I'm sure my virtual dinner will be better than my real one. I can bring leftover chocolate cake; it is still moist and tasty.

The other boodle was sort of "cute"--like watching little kids playing dress-up.

It amazes me that there is so much pent up hostility (combined with a dash of sanctimony and a pinch or two of credulity). Why do such people not turn that energy/emotion to more productive means?

In fairness, there was a lot of that same tone present on the other side when Dubya was president. I'm still surprised that Olbermann and Maddow didn't have aneurysms.

My big project for the next couple of days is to bake a few king cakes. I've eaten plenty but never made one. A king cake is the perfect antidote to cold January days and is also a fabulous methadone for thewithdrawal from holiday treats.

And I would be remiss in not saying Go Longhorns! It's a bit like rooting for the Yankees or the East Germans, but I still remember the McWilliams and Mackovic days, so I can enjoy the "bad" guys for a little longer.

Ahhhhhhh. Nice to be back in the bunker after an afternoon from HE-double toothpicks, as our late local sportscaster used to say. My wireless mouse gave it up (the second faulty mouse in a row, BTW). I signed up for AppleCare, thankfully, and after two calls, I hightailed it over to the Apple Store at Montgomery Mall down the street. Thankfully, today is not a weekend day. Nevertheless, there is a bureaucracy over there that isn't pleasant to deal with. And everyone who works there seems to be 12 years old. However, I finally broke down and bought a "Magic Mouse" -- a Bluetooth toy, which is really kind of cool. Two calls later to Apple, and it works like a charm.

But it took my entire afternoon.

Anybody got some cheese to go with this whine?

Awai -- good to see you. And Ivansmom, I do have a mighty hankering for chocolate cake.

We had a galette cake in the Northren lands of Montana and the Dakotas. And our baby Jesus was metal, the better to survive the baking in the bottom of the pan. If we could not find said baby Jesus-classic Cracker Jack style, we used a kidney bean. Natch, we called this embryo Jesus.

Any good cake; with your coffee. We are set.

BTW: this is how you say Merry Christmas in Amharic. Melkam Genna. The celebrate this now, as do most Orthodox. TBG -- what about the Grecians and Cretans?

I bought the Galette des Rois CqP. My favourite Anglo-French pastry pusher assures me the pea is made of ceramic. I must say it's rather amusing to be served classic French pastry in perfect Queen's English.
The galette will be for tomorrow night though.

Related culinary traditions are the tortell of Catalonia, the gâteau des Rois in Provence or the galette des Rois in the northern half of France, and the Greek and Cypriot vasilopita. The galette des Rois is made with puff pastry and frangipane (while the gâteau des Rois is made with brioche and candied fruits). A little bean was traditionally hidden in it, a custom taken from the Saturnalia in the Roman Empire: the one who stumbled upon the bean was called "king of the feast." In the galette des Rois, since 1870 the beans have been replaced first by porcelain and, now by plastic figurines; while the gâteau des Rois Also known as "Rosca de Reyes" in Mexico.

--
Eventually, SD will tell of his family tradition. THis must be what we had:
gâteau des Rois - but NEVER WITH THE CANDIED FRUITS...You know the phase of No Mixins in the food. No Nuts. Nuthin, etc.

Our neighborhood had a French Canadian flavor with nuns/sisters from Quebec by way of Saskatoon...so, we borrowed their King Cake tradition.

These all sound delish -- and look -- they are on the sideboard. We can have a taste and compare party.

Rasho -- my brothers would have loved that. We had a metal baby Jesus....long ago and far away. I would think that plastic would melt. And, by goodness, think of BPA and poly-etherios, etc., off gassing into the batter.

Blech.

Off for a VHBWEVOO. Very Hot Bath with EVOO -- that is the only way to survive the winter itchies.

But seriously I end up talking geography with a waitress from Bogotá Colombia. She gets a B+ but I get an A- on South America. Next up we talk about USA and I draw a crappy map. I place about 90% of the states accurately and then start naming capitals (why can't I ever remember Albany???). I was about half way through when she changed continents on me.

Then we move on to Central Asia starting with India moving west and north.

Next up is Pakistan, then Afghanistan, and Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan and Stanleystan.

Both the waitress and bartender (another gal from Bogotá) thought it was cleverly funny.

Who knew geography could bridge the humor/language barrier. (they didn't get the 'walk into a bar joke').

Consider the movies on this page: http://epoxi.umd.edu/7press/news/20100105.shtml

Imagine humming Julie Gold's song "From a Distance" while watching it (choose your favorite rendition: Bette Midler, Kathy Mattea, Julie Gold's own performance, or any of a zillion others that I found while searching YouTube).